


Vintage Vinyl

by rudbeckia



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music Store, Dusty Springfield - Freeform, M/M, Robbery, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 03:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15209732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rudbeckia/pseuds/rudbeckia
Summary: Armitage Hux is the owner of a record store, struggling to break even in the face of fierce competition from giants like Imperial Entertainment and New Republic Recordings, and rival independent Takodana Rebel Records. He has two employees: Mitaka who is an enthusiastic sales assistant but is not just there for his wages, and Phasma who does security in the evenings before she goes to her night shift.One day, a tall, broad, dark-haired stranger comes in with a proposal. Armitage really can’t turn the man down.TW for violence applies only to chapter 6.





	1. Wishin’ and Hopin’

**Author's Note:**

> Chapters are song titles. I adore Dusty Springfield.  
> Playlist:  
> [Chapter 1](https://youtu.be/vbAoOeXC2Sg) — https://youtu.be/vbAoOeXC2Sg  
> [Chapter 2](https://youtu.be/TJMJSpOQEvk) — https://youtu.be/TJMJSpOQEvk  
> [Chapter 3](https://youtu.be/AEn16GyRuZA) — https://youtu.be/AEn16GyRuZA  
> [Chapter 4](https://youtu.be/QdcRAHt7H9A) — https://youtu.be/QdcRAHt7H9A  
> [Chapter 5](https://youtu.be/KF7hPhDZOoE) — https://youtu.be/KF7hPhDZOoE  
> [Chapter 6](https://youtu.be/6YsIfVV0T9g) — https://youtu.be/6YsIfVV0T9g  
> 

Armitage Hux picked up the mail from the floor and dumped it with his coffee cup on his desk in the back office. He shivered, checked his hair in the small mirror in the staff bathroom that doubled as a cleaning closet, automatically stepped over the galvanised mop bucket and washed his hands in cold water until his knuckles were numb and red. He returned to the office, lifted his coffee and closed his eyes while he drank. A check of the clock on his iPad screen confirmed that it was ten minutes before opening time, and he cast his eyes around the shop’s dim interior, noting the neat display racks of new release LP sleeves and CD cases with a glow of pride at what he’d achieved.

 _You’ll fail. You’re a failure. You’re too small to compete with the big boys! You’re a disgrace to the family name, squandering your mother’s money on some hare-brained, doomed business. A record shop! Nobody buys music these days. You should invest that windfall in the family business and take that job at Imperial I’ve been offering you on a platter since..._  
He’d tuned out the tirade, researched and planned, looked at premises, gone to the bank and got an account and a business advisor, then moved out of his father’s commuter-belt home to the city. Well then—a smug thought as he drank his coffee—the old bastard got it wrong. _First Order Music_ was almost breaking even when it was the flagship _Imperial Entertainment_ store quarter of a mile away on the fashionable end of the high street that always had big, red, _SALE!_ posters yelling from the windows. A good weekend before the end of the month would push the First Order business account briefly from red into black. He hoped it wouldn’t rain and stop his customers from taking the short walk from the covered mall to his open door.

Armitage binned his used cup, checked the time again, switched on the fluorescent lights and unlocked the door, propping it open with a chalkboard on which Mitaka had carefully painted the shop logo and name above a large arrow pointing inside. Mitaka himself arrived soon after, unpacking his laptop and perching on the tall barstool behind the counter while Armitage perfected the window display.  
“Looks good from this angle,” observed Mitaka, watching Armitage lean over to reach a fallen-over CD case.  
“I know,” replied Armitage, feigning obliviousness. “You’re early.”  
“I know,” said Mitaka with a smile, turning his attention to his screen before he got caught leering at his boss. “I have an essay to write and it’s easier to concentrate in here than in the library.”  
Without speaking, Armitage walked over to the counter and cranked up the volume on the CD player, a compilation that might as well have been called _Music For When Grandpa Thinks He’s At Silverstone._ Mitaka laughed and turned it down again.  
“I promise I’ll serve customers while you’re busy if you let me change the music.” Mitaka looked over at his boss and smiled.  
Armitage smiled back and returned to his window display. “Very well,” he said. “But I can’t afford to pay you for the extra hours. There’s a new promo CD in the mail. Apparently the Sixties are coming back round again. Play that.”

Mitaka fetched the mail pile, opened everything and slotted the disk into place. He waved a delivery card at Armitage. “Looks like they left a parcel for you next door,” he said. “Want me to fetch it?”  
_Wishin' and hopin' and thinkin' and prayin'_  
“Yes please.” Armitage looked at the window display from the side. “Can you get me another coffee while you’re being useful?”  
_Plannin' and dreamin' each night of his charms_  
“Okay. The usual?” Mitaka watched Armitage lean over and fix another part of the display.  
_That won't get you into his arms_  
Armitage stood up straight and patted his pockets. “Yes,” he said, looking around. “I’ll pay you in a minute.”  
_So if you're lookin' to find love you can share_  
“It’s okay, back in a bit. By the way, I opened the one from New Republic. We still can’t stock their artists or they’ll sue. Bastards.”  
_All you gotta do is hold him and kiss him and love him_  
Armitage walked over to the CD player and punched the pause button.

The first customers usually came in on their lunch breaks, flicked through the latest releases, looked at the new posters and left without spending any money. Armitage tolerated this because of the few who would return at the end of the day to buy whatever they’d seen earlier and thought about getting, maybe the latest chart compilation for the car CD player or perhaps highlights of the latest popular musical as a reward for a good day at work. But for now it was quiet. Armitage worked on making his store look as sleek as possible while Mitaka collected his parcel and coffee for him. Mitaka returned with his arms under a box under two coffee cups under a wide grin.  
“I think it’s the bags!” He slid his burden onto the counter and reached for the scissors Armitage kept in the basket beside the till. “Can I open it? Please?”  
Armitage nodded and moved the cups. Mitaka carefully slit the tape on the box and opened it, taking out paper and biodegradable plastic bags in two sizes, perfect for CDs and twelve-inch LPs, each one deep red with the black hexagonal logo that Mitaka had designed for him on a whim. Armitage brushed past Mitaka on his way to the cramped office, dropping a pat on his shoulder and a kiss on his head on the way past.  
“What was that for?” Mitaka asked, cheeks warming.  
“For being here when you don’t have to be,” said Armitage. “For being so reliable.” _For working extra hours and designing the shop logo for free._ “Put the bags in the rack neatly, will you?”  
Mitaka blushed at his screen and reached for the CD player. Watching Mitaka from the office for a few seconds, Armitage smiled then got on with his emails.  
_And show him that you care_

The music had changed to the latest compilation CD of eighties electronica for the middle-age-denialist nostalgia market. Armitage tapped his fingers along to tracks his parents might have danced to, then shuddered at the thought of Brendol Hux dancing, and got on with writing emails. He sighed when a voice filtered through to the back office, paused mid-sentence and listened.  
“Yeah, yeah, but if you just let me see the manager?”  
“I understand sir, but the manager is very busy. Can I take your CV and letter and pass it to him?“  
Armitage smiled and finished his email. Mitaka was following the script he’d been given. Say thank you, take the envelope, smile, promise to pass it on and phone by the weekend if it’s a yes, shred it the minute whoever it was has gone.  
“You’ll just shred it. I have to see the manager myself.”  
“If you give me your CV I promise I’ll pass it on to the manager personally as soon as he has time to read it.” Armitage could hear Mitaka’s suppressed annoyance. “I’m afraid he can’t see you right now.”  
“Why?” the voice asked. Armitage detected irritation and he stood up to go deal with the awkward man himself. Perhaps Mitaka would learn from watching and listening. “I’m the only customer in the shop right now, and you’re an—”  
“You’re not a customer, sir,” said Armitage appearing behind Mitaka and walking around to the front of the counter. “You’re not even pretending you’re here to browse or buy anything. Please don’t insult my staff or I will have to ask you to leave.”  
The ‘customer’ looked Armitage up and down in a way that was at once threatening and suggestive. Unasked, Armitage’s mind supplied the phrase _Oh yeah? You and whose army?_ But he kept his glare steady. The man looked at Armitage for a few seconds too long before dropping his eyes and saying, “I didn’t come here to insult your staff. I came to tell you about my experience and give you my résumé.” Armitage nodded and held out his hand. The man offered him a thin, manila envelope but did not let go. “I have two years’ experience in independent music stores and I know how you could turn your business around.”  
Armitage released the envelope at the same time as the man did. It fell to the floor and landed with a slap.  
“I do not need your business advice, whoever you think you are,” said Armitage with ice in his tone. “Please leave and take _that,”_ he pointed at the envelope between their feet, “with you.”  
The man looked stung. He turned and marched out. Armitage and Mitaka watched the figure walk away then Armitage picked up the envelope. Mitaka held out his hand. “Shredder? Should I do the honours?” he asked, breathing out a nervous laugh.  
“No,” said Armitage, tearing the seal and letting his gaze linger on the door. “Let’s see who that arsehole is first.”

“So, Kyle, you temped for a record company then you joined Takodana Rebel Records?”  
_”It’s Kyl- **oh.** Yes. I worked there until last month.”_  
It hadn’t taken Armitage long to decide he was going to call this speculative job applicant back, but it had taken him two days to decide how to approach the call. There wasn’t a job opening and there was no money to pay an extra part timer. He’d insisted to Mitaka that his job was safe and that his decision to call back was only to get information on their rival store, and had nothing to do with broad shoulders, dark hair, dark eyes and smouldering looks.  
“Why did they fire you?”  
_”I left because of a fundamental difference of opinion on—”_  
“Maz fired you for talking back to her, didn’t she?”  
_”You know Maz Kanata?”_  
Armitage bluffed. He’d been in Takodana Rebel only long enough to decide that Maz Kanata’s store with its disordered shelves and poorly dressed assistants would be no threat to his proposed modern, clean business. “I know Maz well enough to call her for a reference so you may as well tell me yourself.”  
_“Ugh fine. We argued over her application to get the store a liquor license. I don’t want to be a bartender or a bouncer. I’m a record dealer.”_  
“Well, I don’t need a bouncer. I have Phasma.” Armitage mulled over the information that Takodana Rebel Records planned to open a bar. “We’re actually doing quite well considering the current financial climate. What makes you think you can improve my business?”  
_”Can I come to your store and we can discuss that? Face to face?”_  
Armitage feigned thought but actually sat back smiling for a count of five seconds before replying, “Well then. I’ll expect you tomorrow at eleven.”


	2. I Only Want To Be With You

Armitage tutted as the door rattled. It was ten past eleven and Kylo Ren was late.  
“I said eleven,” he snapped as he looked up from the counter. “It’s now after ten past.”  
“Yeah, I know,” said Kylo, lowering a large messenger bag to the floor and sliding a paper cup in front of Armitage. “Cute barista said you like yours a decaf skinny soy cinnamon latte. Takes longer to make. I had you down as an Earl Grey type.”  
“Cute Barista?” Armitage raised his eyebrows. “Are you late for your interview because you were flirting with...” he wracked his brain for a name.  
“Uh? No,” Kylo’s smile reminded Armitage of a nature documentary he’d watched late last night. It was about alligators. “I think his name badge said ‘Thanisson’.”  
“Oh!” Armitage took his coffee and sipped it whilst recalibrating his assumptions about Kylo Ren and trying not to smile. “Thank you. I think Mitaka flirts with him to get free coffee. Officially I disapprove but unofficially...” he shrugged, “...I get free coffee. Well then, tell me why I should invent a job for you when I can barely afford to pay Mitaka and Phasma.”  
“Because,” said Kylo, leaning his elbows on the counter and surging forward into Armitage’s personal space in a way that made Armitage have to suppress his sudden desire to lean back, “I can increase your turnover enough to pay my wage, and if I don’t then you don’t have to pay me so there’s no risk.”

Armitage did sit back at that claim. “Really?” he said after a few seconds, eyes narrowing a little. “Go on then. Convince me.”  
“It’s the feel of your shop,” said Kylo, turning and waving his arm as if to encompass the whole place. “You’re going at this all wrong.”  
Armitage scowled and sat forward again, elbows on the counter, reclaiming his space. “That is hardly the way to win me over!”  
“No, please. Listen,” Kylo shook his head, pointed to the door and held Armitage’s direct gaze. “You’re a small, independent music store. Why do people come here rather than go to the huge _Imperial_ megastore down the street?”  
Armitage took a deep breath and grinned. He knew this one—he’d answered the same question smoothly at the bank. “Because Imperial is stuck in the past, dying slowly, and we’re the future—“  
Kylo stopped him with a hand. “Not yet we’re not!” He shushed Armitage’s splutter. “Right now, we’re a small copy of them! We need to be more than that. Sell what they don’t.”  
Armitage’s cheeks flushed pink. “What? How!” he demanded. “Kylo, you may not be aware but I am on a very limited budget and stock is—“ Kylo’s hand came up again.  
“This won’t cost you, I promise,” he said. “Let me work for First Order and you’ll see.”  
In a decidedly cold tone, Armitage asked, “What exactly do you propose to do here?”  
“Vintage Vinyl. Eventually, when you get better premises, top of the line record players.” Kylo smiled as if that explained everything. Armitage made _go on_ motions with his hands and Kylo shrugged. “Things you can’t get for nine-ninety-nine-next-day-delivery off the internet. Specialist orders.” Armitage made the _keep going_ sign again. Kylo’s face lit up and he waved his hands as he spoke. “Say a customer wants a genuine, original, 1964 twelve inch vinyl copy of _A Girl Called Dusty_ complete with limited edition promotional poster and you don’t have it—“  
Armitage held up a hand and this time Kylo was silenced. “Well, we wouldn’t because we’re not that sort of store. We don’t sell secondhand cra—“  
“No! Listen!” Kylo shuffled forwards and leaned on the counter opposite Armitage. He lowered his voice and Armitage leaned in. “The people who are interested in vintage vinyl have money. They work long hours in demanding jobs. They want to own a piece of music history as a status symbol but they don’t have the time to visit secondhand stores or phone house clearance companies or go to record fairs or close a deal early with sellers on uBuy. They contact you to ask if you have it in stock. You say not yet but I have someone who can get it for you. I’m that someone and they’ll pay a premium.”  
“Fine,” said Armitage. “Get it for me.”  
“Easy,” replied Kylo with a grin as he reached for his bag. “Where’s your turntable?”

Frowning because he’d fallen so easily for Kylo’s patter, Armitage slid off the high stool, stepped back and pointed under the counter at the shelf where the turntable sat stacked on top of the CD player and the amplifier. Armitage shook his head at the brassy intro and prepared his _thanks but no_ speech.  
_I don't know what it is that makes me love you so_  
“Kylo, there’s a limited market for—“  
_I only know I never want to let you go_  
“Doesn’t matter what you like,” said Kylo. “It’s about what the customer is willing to pay, right?”  
_'Cause you started something, can't you see_  
Armitage conceded that point, but something else occurred to him. “Can’t you do this on your own? Get a website? Why do you want to join First Order?”  
_That ever since we met you've had a hold on me_  
“I tried that,” said Kylo. “But I need something that looks more legit. A link with an established business will get buyers to trust me.”  
_It happens to be true, I only want to be with you_  
“So you came to me because you failed on your own after you were fired from your last job,” Armitage said. “Well, what a tempting proposition.” Kylo’s face fell and then twisted into anger. Armitage almost laughed. He held his hands up in surrender and smiled. “But I’ll take a chance. You have a month to prove yourself.”  
Kylo offered Armitage a handshake and a grin. “Thanks! You won’t regret it,” he said as Armitage watched him walk towards the door. He paused in the doorway and turned. “When the album finishes, make sure you store it properly. No fingerprints. I’ll come by later to set up the rest.”  
He’d gone before Armitage got the chance to ask: do you think I’m an idiot, and the rest of _what?_

Armitage listened to the album twice before he carefully slipped it back into its fragile, yellowed paper and then into the peeling card of the album sleeve. Mitaka arrived with coffee and sandwiches, and while he ate he listened to Armitage’s description of Kylo’s proposed contribution to the business with a deepening scowl. “I bet he’s not telling you everything,” he said once Armitage stopped talking.  
“I would have told me less, were our situations reversed,” said Armitage. “If he makes a profit we get a cut. If he doesn’t, he gets nothing from us. All he wants is to use our logo.”  
“And address and phone number, and I bet it’s not long before he wants the bank details too,” warned Mitaka. “Be careful.”  
Armitage laughed and ruffled Mitaka’s hair on the way past. “Are you jealous because he sweet-talked Thanisson into giving him a free latte?”  
Face like a thundercloud, Mitaka slipped down from his perch behind the counter and made to follow Armitage into the back office, but Armitage pointed out a customer who looked on the point of making a decision between two CDs and murmured _give you a bonus if you get them to buy both._

An hour later, Armitage and Mitaka both watched the after-school crowd flip through the latest releases on the most prominent displays. The kids brought their drinks and snacks from the café next door and Armitage tolerated this as long as they didn’t make a mess. One of them approached clutching a CD case.  
“Um, can you play this?”  
“Sure,” said Mitaka, looking at the case. He selected the correct disk from the locked drawer behind the till and soon music boomed out. The kid grinned her thanks and went back to her friends, dancing and mouthing along with the lyrics.  
“Gonna tell dad I want this for my birthday,” she announced to the entire shop. “He can get it off my wishlist on _Volga.”_  
Armitage started forward but Mitaka’s hand on his arm reminded him that throwing potential future customers out was not good business practice.

Phasma arrived just in time to welcome the after-work customers. Mitaka gave Armitage a triumphant look when his customer from lunchtime returned and bought two CDs after being offered a slight discount on the second one, and Armitage murmured, _”Well done,”_ in his ear when Phasma wasn’t looking. Mitaka shivered and laughed, rubbing the gooseflesh on his arm, and Armitage pretended not to notice. Once the five o’clock customers had gone, Mitaka left and Phasma settled herself for the evening shift.  
“He likes you,” said Phasma, pointing at Mitaka’s retreating back.  
“What? No,” said Armitage. “He flirts with everyone. Good sales tactic.”  
“No he doesn’t,” replied Phasma, giving Armitage a cool glare. “Just with you and the cute barista next door. You encourage him. It’s cruel.”  
“I do not!” Armitage glared at her. “I’m just being friendly.”  
“Come on then,” she said, cocking her head. “Whisper sweet nothings in my ear too.”  
“I wouldn’t dare,” said Armitage. “You’re an employee and I’m your boss. And as your boss I order you to remain here while I take my break. Want me to bring you some chips?”

Half an hour later, Armitage pointed at a scuffed display cabinet that had definitely not been there before and demanded, “What the fuck is that doing there!”  
Phasma laughed and accepted a paper-wrapped package that smelled of salt and vinegar. “Your new boy turned up. Since he was bringing records into the shop and not trying to take records out of the shop without paying, I let him.”  
“She helped.” Kylo appeared in the doorway behind Armitage, carrying a box of records. “There’s one more box.”  
“I’ll get it,” said Phasma through a mouthful of thick, greasy chips, slipping through the gap between Armitage and Kylo and out of the door.  
Kylo knelt on the floor to open the box and remove LPs a few at a time and slot them into the cabinet. “I had to move a few things around to make space for our vintage vinyl section.”  
“Well then,” said Armitage, taking a few records out of the display and handing them back to Kylo, “you can just put everything back again.”  
Kylo stared up at Armitage. “But you said I could have a month! To prove myself! How can I sell anything if you won’t let me show off the kind of stuff I can get?”  
“You didn’t say anything about putting your own shoddy display in my nice, clean shop! I told you we don’t stock secondhand crap.” Armitage thrust the records at Kylo again and Kylo took them just to make sure there was no damage. He inspected the covers and made a face.  
“Eww you put a smear on this one! No! Don’t touch.” Kylo stood up and turned, arms out, as if shielding his precious records from Armitage’s greasy fingers. Armitage took a step back and pointed at Kylo and at the display cabinet.  
“You need to—“  
“Kylo! I can’t believe you’ve got this!” Phasma shouldered her way through the door. She held a faded, dog-eared album cover carefully with her sleeve over her fingers, pointing to a scrawl on it. “Is it the genuine article? The autograph? The Man in Black himself?” Kylo nodded. “Great! My grandma loves him. She used to have a copy. I swear it wore through from being played so much. How much do you want for it?”

Kylo smiled at Phasma and named a price that made Armitage’s eyes water. Phasma turned to Armitage, face lit up with joy. “I can pay with plastic, right?” She pointed to Kylo. “I mean, he works here so it’s legit?”  
Through gritted teeth, Armitage said, “Well then, I suppose he does.”


	3. Tossin’ and Turnin’

Kylo and Phasma both stayed until twenty minutes after the last customer had left and Armitage announced it may as well be closing time. Kylo had a little interest in his collection but no buyers, although he’d persuaded a customer to place an order for the remastered CD version of one of his vintage LPs. Phasma flipped the sign and locked the door then started organising the racks back into order while Armitage dimmed the lights and went to the office to cash up.  
“Kylo, since you work here now,” said Armitage, pointing at the staff restroom that doubled as a cleaning cupboard, “you can have the honour of mopping the floor.”  
“Looks fine to me,” replied Kylo with a shrug.  
“In that case, give me your inventory and we can put your secondhand crap on the computer.” Hux looked over at Kylo, who was frowning at him. “You know, in case anyone else wants to buy something. We don’t do many cash transactions.” Armitage frowned back. “You do have one, don’t you? An inventory?”  
Kylo clattered the mop bucket. “I’ll clean the floor.”  
“Oh great galaxies, you don’t!” Armitage rolled his eyes. “Kylo, I need to know title, artist, record label, catalogue number and price for every item before we open tomorrow.”  
“Why?” Kylo shrugged.  
“Did you... Kylo, tell me honestly. Did you lie on your CV about having experience of working in retail? Because—“  
“No!” Kylo gripped the mop handle so tightly that his knuckles whitened. “I just... Never mind. I’ll get you your inventory.” He put the mop back and picked up a pen from the till and a sheet of paper from the printer. Armitage came out from the office, clutching his iPad and shaking his head.  
“Not like that. Look, we might as well put them directly onto the system. I’ll help.”

Phasma had gone hours earlier, locking the door and closing the shutters behind her, yelling goodnight to Armitage and Kylo, who barely noticed her leave. They sat on the floor with Kylo reading off information and Armitage entering it into the stock inventory, Kylo slipping each album into a protective polythene envelope and Armitage printing off a sticky label for it. By the time each album was catalogued, bagged, labelled, barcoded and priced, the only light outside came from the steady orange glow of a streetlamp and the occasional sweep of bright, white headlights. Armitage rubbed his face and yawned.  
“That’s it,” said Kylo. “That’s all I brought.”  
“No, we forgot the one you left here earlier.” Armitage stood up slowly and stretched. “It’s behind the till. I’ll get it.”  
“That’s not for sale,” said Kylo quickly.  
“Well then,” said Armitage. “Better get it out of my shop before someone sells it.” He caught Kylo looking up at him. Kylo returned Armitage’s habitual frown with an unembarrassed, slow smile.  
“You take it. A gift. To say thank you for helping me out.”  
Armitage looked away. “Thanks but—“ He stopped. _Thanks but it’s not really my thing? Thanks but it’s clearly worth more to you than it ever would be to me?_ He used the first inoffensive lie that came to mind. “I don’t own a proper turntable except for the one here in the shop.”  
“Well that’s an easy fix!” Kylo held out his hand. “Maybe I can help you choose a good one. Help me up. My leg’s gone to sleep.”

Armitage clasped Kylo’s hand and hauled him to his feet.  
“Want to go for a drink?” Kylo asked. “Coffee place is closed but there might be a few bars still open.”  
“It’s late,” said Armitage. “I want to go home and sleep. I have work in the morning.”  
“You open late!” said Kylo, letting go of Armitage’s hand and grabbing the record he’d offered. “I’ll walk you home if it’s not far, or we could share a minicab.”  
“I live nearby.” Armitage jingled his keys and unlocked the door to let Kylo out. He activated the shop alarm and scurried outside to lock up before the beeps stopped. “You don’t have to walk me home,” he said, crouching to lock the shutter. “And I’m not inviting you up to see my etchings or whatever the euphemism is these days.”  
Kylo laughed. “I’d have to refuse,” he said. “I couldn’t possibly allow myself to be seduced by someone who doesn’t even own a record player.”

They walked side by side, not feeling the need for further conversation, until Armitage stopped outside a blocky, brick and concrete building with a flat roof, sandwiched between two Georgian town houses in need of paint.  
“This is me,” he said. “What time do you intend to show up for work tomorrow?”  
“I’m going to check out a couple of car boot sales,” said Kylo, looking up at the few stars bright enough to pierce the light-polluted sky. “I’ll collect you at nine and you can come with me.”  
“Nine!” Armitage shook his head. “I need to be at the shop by ten-thirty.”  
“No you don’t,” countered Kylo with a grin. “I promise to have you home in time to open at noon.”  
Armitage lingered for a moment, considering Kylo’s offer. Kylo stepped closer.  
“Well then,” said Armitage, fear of rejection making him resist the temptation to lean in and see if Kylo might meet him in a kiss then come up to his flat for... for _something._ “I’ll say goodnight and see you in the morning.”

In the safety of his third floor flat, Armitage leaned against the door and sighed. He should have said no. He should not have let this strange man into his life at all. He should have let Mitaka shred the envelope and its contents without looking inside. Then he’d have been home hours ago and been asleep by now with Millie curled up by his knees. Millie paced the kitchen, glaring at him.  
“Sorry kitten,” said Armitage. “Dinner’s late, isn’t it? Don’t worry. I didn’t kiss him goodnight. You’re still my sweet boy.” He opened a can of tuna, tipped it into a clean cat bowl and was immediately forgiven, then went into the living room and opened the front of the vintage radiogram he’d rescued when his grandmother’s house was being cleared. “Daddy’s got a new record. Want to hear it?” He checked the time. “Well, maybe not.”  
Armitage slipped into bed but sleep was hard to find. Dark eyes, lustrous hair and an uneven smile plagued him until he gave in, shut Millie out of the bedroom and replayed their awkward goodbye only this time he kissed fantasy-Kylo and invited him inside. When he was breathing hard and coming after only a few minutes, Armitage cursed himself, embarrassed, as if Kylo would look at him in the morning and somehow know.

Kylo arrived early. He’d buzzed Armitage’s flat at half past eight and now stood in Armitage’s living room with a mug of tea while Armitage hurried to shower and dress. He’d laughed at the radiogram then confessed that he loved the way people used to make music such a feature of their lives that they had a whole piece of furniture dedicated to it rather than a phone and discreet wireless speakers. When Armitage emerged from his bedroom, Kylo had put a record on and was singing along while Millie stared at him from behind the curtains.

 _Baby, baby, can't you see what you're doing to me?_  
_I couldn't sleep a wink last night just a-thinking of you_

“I’m ready when you are,” Armitage said, sitting down to put his shoes on. Kylo turned to face him and kept singing.

 _Baby things weren't right I kept on tossin' and turnin'_  
_Turnin' and tossin' tossin' and turnin' all night_

“Kylo, it’s Saturday morning and we have neighbours. Keep it down, will you?”

 _I threw the blankets on the floor, turned my pillow upside down_  
_Then I thought of you some more_

“Enough!” Cheeks flaming, Armitage carefully lifted the stylus from the record and put it back on its cradle then turned off the record player.  
“Sorry.” Kylo did not look at all sorry. He grinned. “Not a morning person?”  
“Have you forgotten that I got home at two in the morning? Because of you?”  
“I got home even later,” said Kylo, “and I barely slept because I kept wondering what would have happened if—“ Kylo shrugged and knelt to take the precious LP out of the record player and put it away properly.  
“If?” Armitage felt his pulse pound and his stomach flutter.  
“Doesn’t matter,” said Kylo. “What-ifs are a waste of time. Ready?”  
“Let’s go then,” said Armitage, hoping his voice sounded normal.

Kylo said that with two of them it should take half the time to check out every stall. Armitage came up with a strategy: he would send Kylo photos of any vinyl he found and Kylo would text back yes or no. The first sale turned up only a couple of items Kylo thought worth buying, but at the second, when Armitage sent him a photo of a box labelled _Everything £1,_ Kylo texted back _act cool_ and marched over, barely able to contain his excitement. Armitage could see Kylo’s eyes widen as he fingered through the box of old records. He picked out a few, checked them over carefully then called to the stall holder,  
“Hey, Can I buy these? I got ten.”  
“Tenner, then,” replied the stall holder.  
Kylo nudged Armitage. “Got my hands full. Would you?”  
Armitage fished ten pounds from his wallet and handed it over while Kylo put his purchases carefully into his bag. Half an hour later they were back in Kylo’s borrowed Peugeot and heading back home, Armitage nodding off in the passenger seat while Kylo drove with a grin almost splitting his face.

Kylo dropped Armitage off at the store. Armitage opened up, pulling a face at the state of the floor nobody had mopped last night. He debated leaving the _Closed_ sign up and doing the cleaning himself but someone waved at him through the door. He unlocked it and the customer came in.  
“Hi,” the customer looked hopeful. “Is it true that Kylo Ren works here now?”  
“Yes,” replied Armitage. “But he’s not in yet. Can I help you?”  
“Oh, probably not,” said the customer, crestfallen. “He texted me and said to meet him here. He’s got me a genuine, nineteen-fifty-six Miles Davis. Really rare! Says I can have it for three hundred and fifty. I can’t wait to see it.”  
Armitage thought back to the car boot sale and Kylo’s excitement. He pulled out his phone, scrolled to the photo he’d sent Kylo earlier from the stall and cropped it so that just the record sleeve showed. He held the screen up.  
“This one?”  
“Yes!” The customer almost squealed. “That’s it! I’ve been after a copy for years but I always get pipped at the post on uBuy.”  
Armitage smiled and took back his phone. “Well then, why don’t I order us each some coffee and tell Kylo you’re here and get the details from him, and you can have a look at the rest of our vintage vinyl in case anything else takes your fancy.”

Mitaka arrived fifteen minutes later, barging through the door with three cups of coffee and a scowl. “I’m not your—“ Mitaka stopped when he saw there was a customer in the shop. “Sorry. Here’s your coffee.” He watched Armitage offer the flat white to the customer then his eyes moved to the door as Kylo Ren came in. Armitage took his latte and Kylo helped himself to Mitaka’s plain drip filter. Mitaka’s glower deepened but Armitage took his arm and steered him through to the office while Kylo conducted his business.  
“Sorry, I know you’re not the teaboy. Thanks. Here.” He gave Mitaka cash for the coffee, tucking the note into Mitaka’s top pocket and patting it. “Wait until you hear about the morning we just had. It was amazing. He got so excited over a ten-inch extended—”  
“I don’t need to know about whatever you and him got up to in private,” snapped Mitaka.  
“What?” Armitage went pink and giggled. “Stars! No! We went to a car boot sale!”  
Mitaka laughed in embarrassment. “Thank the galaxy for that. I—”  
Whatever Mitaka was going to say next was lost when Kylo called through to ask Armitage to unlock the till.

Watched by Mitaka, Armitage smiled for the customer and handled the payment while Kylo slipped the record, now in a labelled, protective plastic bag, into one of the plastic bags with the shop logo on it. Since it was Saturday afternoon, the shop had a steady stream of customers and Armitage offered Mitaka an extra couple of hours’ work if he could stay. Mitaka readily agreed and Armitage directed him to fetch more coffee. With Mitaka out of sight, Armitage stood beside Kylo, who was adding his new purchases to the inventory.  
“So you made a decent profit on that one,” said Armitage.  
“Yes, I did,” replied Kylo with a nod.  
“Does that happen often?”  
“Often enough,” said Kylo, pausing his work to raise an eyebrow at Armitage. “Impressed?”  
“Surprised,” admitted Armitage. “And impressed.”  
Kylo smiled and Armitage smiled back. Just as the door opened and Mitaka walked in carrying three cups of coffee, Kylo leaned in and kissed Armitage then retreated to the office. Mitaka slid the drinks onto the counter.  
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t just see that,” he said, glaring at Kylo’s back, then he lowered his voice, leaned close to Armitage and pointed towards the office. “But I won’t pretend I didn’t just find out from Thanisson that he’s still working for Takodana Rebel Records.”


	4. To Love Somebody

Armitage frowned at Mitaka, then shook his head. “No. He can’t be. I got his reference from Maz Kanata by email. All it said was, _Good luck, he’s a force of nature._ If he still worked there wouldn’t she have mentioned it?”  
Mitaka shrugged. “Just telling you what I heard. He was seen in her shop yesterday. You can’t trust him.”  
Lips pressed into a tight line, Armitage shook his head again. “I’m not listening to gossip. Go sort out the death metal section. Looks like someone’s forgotten the alphabet.”  
Mitaka wandered off to the back of the shop and got to work. Armitage poked his head into the office. “Kylo? Apparently you were seen in Takodana Rebels yesterday.”  
Kylo barely moved. “And?”  
“And do you still work there too?”  
“No.” Kylo slid another record into a plastic sleeve and stuck a barcode on it. He focused on the iPad screen. Armitage waited and eventually Kylo spoke. “I had to pick up a few things.”  
“Things?”  
“My collection. And my... stuff.”  
“Stuff?”  
“My clothes.”  
“You lived there?”  
“Maz rents out the rooms above the shop. Since I no longer work there I had to move out.”  
“Oh.” Armitage leaned against the door. “Where do you live now?”  
“Does it matter?” Kylo’s head came up and he fixed Armitage with a challenging stare.  
Armitage shook his head and looked away. “It does if you’re my employee.”  
“Consider me a self-employed contractor, then.” Kylo’s head dropped again and he bit his lip.  
“I’m serious,” said Armitage, softly this time. “Where did you go after you left me last night? Where are you staying tonight?”  
Kylo took a deep breath. “Last night I slept on my cousin’s floor. She let me borrow her car when I said I’d used nearly all my cash on a taxi to move my collection here and I had nowhere to leave my stuff. I don’t know about tonight yet. She has a studio flat and a boyfriend who hates me, so not there.” Kylo picked up the next record sleeve. “I suppose there’s always the car. It’ll piss her off but I’m the family loser anyway.”  
“You’ll stay at my place.” The offer left Armitage’s lips before he thought about it properly, but the look of relief on Kylo’s face meant that he couldn’t take it back. “Just until you find somewhere else,” he added, turning so that he wouldn’t see Kylo’s face. “If you stay longer than payday, you start paying rent. That’s Thursday, okay?”  
Armitage gave Kylo his keys and sent him to move his belongings into the flat and return the car. Mitaka, he decided, didn’t need to know.

It turned out that Kylo was an easy flatmate. He was quiet, preferring to read or listen to music over conversation, and he was comfortable enough with a sleeping bag on the sofa. He brought Armitage tea in the mornings and then left him alone to wake up slowly, didn’t scoff when Armitage said Millicent was a perfectly acceptable name for a scarred ginger tomcat that looked as if he could bring down a bear, and he cleaned up well enough after himself. On Wednesday evening, in the store after Phasma had left and they were closing up, Armitage said as much and Kylo laughed.  
“It’s only been four nights so far, Armitage. Anyone can act civilised for that long. I promise I am looking for my own place, but there’s not much in my price range.”  
“Yes, well,” said Armitage. “You don’t have to take the first dive that’s available. I don’t mind if you stay until you find somewhere decent. Like I said, if you stay beyond tomorrow you’re paying rent so don’t think for one second that you’re freeloading.”  
Kylo smiled at that. “So you think I’m earning my way at the record store?”  
“So far so good,” replied Armitage. He pointed at the vintage vinyl display. “You should at least be able to pay rent for the square feet you made untidy with all your second hand crap.”  
“That is a quality collection for the discerning music buff!” retorted Kylo. “Take it back immediately!”  
Armitage refused, just to see what would happen next. Grinning, Kylo wrestled him to the floor and got him in an armlock. Armitage wriggled and laughed, pinned down by Kylo’s weight, until Kylo rolled away, stood up and went to the office. Armitage called through, “You okay?”  
“Yeah,” replied Kylo. “Sorry.”  
“What for?”  
Kylo didn’t reply. Armitage changed the music. When Kylo returned, Armitage was crooning along while he checked and double checked the day’s sales.

_There's a light, a certain kind of light_

Kylo’s face lit up. He held out his hand and Armitage took it, allowing himself to be pulled close, one of Kylo’s hands on his waist, the other clasping his own.

 _That never shone on me_  
_I want my life to be lived with you_  
_Lived with you_

They swayed around the store, singing the familiar lyrics, lit by the one fluorescent light Phasma always left on when she locked the door after herself and closed the main shutters.

 _There's a way everybody say_  
_To do each and every little thing_  
_But what does it bring_  
_If I ain't got you, ain't got_

Armitage wasn’t aware of which of them had stopped dancing first, but it was his hand that moved first—it slid from Kylo’s shoulder up and around the back of his neck and into his thick hair, every bit as soft as it looked. Kylo shivered and locked eyes with him, paused in the middle of a word.

 _You don't know what it's like, baby_  
_You don't know what it's like_

Armitage smiled, and Kylo’s lips were on his, soft and hesitant, just for a second. Eyes closing, Armitage pushed both hands into Kylo’s hair and held him, pulled him into another, longer, kiss, as Kylo’s arms wrapped firm and strong around his back, fitting their bodies flush together.

 _To love somebody_  
_To love somebody_  
_The way I love you_

Kylo broke off first, red-faced, looking away.  
Armitage cursed quietly, ”Oh _fuck.”_  
Kylo snorted then giggled. “I can’t decide whether this is the worst idea in the world or the best ever.”  
Armitage rested his forehead on Kylo’s shoulder. “It seems rude of me to make you sleep on the sofa tonight when I have a double bed.”  
Kylo murmured in Armitage’s ear. “So from the point of view of... of being a considerate host, you think I should sleep with you?”  
“Mmhmm.” Armitage smiled and nodded.  
“Well, it’s bad manners to turn down hospitality like that.” Kylo laughed. “You sure Millie won’t mind?”  
“Oh, he’ll hate you,” said Armitage, reluctantly disengaging himself from Kylo’s arms. “Forgiveness will cost you at least two cans of tuna. Now, let’s finish here. I’m suddenly very keen to go home.”

Kylo was so quiet on the walk home that Armitage wondered if he’d changed his mind. He turned to face Kylo in the little entry hall of his flat, ready to offer some excuse that would let them both back off, but Kylo put his bag down, smiled, held out his hand and began to sing.  
_I'm a man, can't you see what I am?_  
_I live and I breathe for you_  
_But what good does it do_  
Armitage laughed and took Kylo’s hand to lead him through to the bedroom.

The Thursday morning traffic noise woke Armitage with Kylo’s arm across his back and Millie chirping in his ear more insistently than any alarm clock. He slid out of bed to feed him and make tea while Kylo rolled over and stretched. Armitage took two mugs of tea through and perched on the edge of the bed. Kylo sat up and pushed a hand through his hair. Armitage picked up his phone, grinned and took a photo of Kylo, looking relaxed and sleepily smiling, then put his phone down and stroked his fingers across the few marks he’d left on Kylo’s pale chest. Kylo laughed, grabbed Armitage’s hand and kissed his fingers.  
“Payday,” he said. “I hope I earned enough to afford the rent.”

Armitage opened up the store while Kylo trawled markets and second hand stores across town. Mitaka arrived on time and made no mention of any gossip about Kylo. He ignored Armitage’s small attempts at flattery and by the start of Phasma’s shift the atmosphere in the shop was chilly. Phasma pulled Armitage aside and told him to talk to Mitaka. Armitage rolled his eyes but agreed to find out what he problem was, but it turned out that he didn’t need to ask. Mitaka walked over with Armitage’s phone on his hand.  
“You phone keeps ringing and every time it does a photo of Kylo Ren in bed lights up. You might want to answer it.”  
Armitage took the phone and put his arm around Mitaka’s shoulders. Mitaka reddened, but allowed Armitage to steer him out of the shop.  
“Doph,” Armitage faced Mitaka on the pavement with cars on one side and pedestrians hurrying past on the other. “What’s your problem with Kylo? He works here now and you have to learn to work with him.”  
“A week ago you barely knew he existed and now he’s naked on your lock screen. Armitage, you know nothing about him. He could be some kind of corporate spy, or a mole sent in to damage your business, getting under your defences with a sob story and puppydog eyes.” Mitaka glared at Armitage. “Meanwhile _others_ help you out honestly and you don’t appreciate it.”  
Armitage chewed his lip. “Look, Doph I really do appreciate all the extra you do for me. I’m just not in a position to...” He sighed. “I just don’t...”  
“Don’t I know it,” said Mitaka, an overtone of bitterness in his voice. “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to think I was getting somewhere with you, that you’d see me eventually as long as I was there for you enough. Excuse me.”  
Mitaka pushed past Armitage and walked away. Armitage sighed and shrugged at Phasma through the window.

Unseen by any of them, Kylo Ren emerged from where he’d ducked into the coffee shop doorway and hurried after Mitaka.


	5. I just don’t know what to do with myself

Mitaka didn’t turn up for his shift on Friday and Armitage assumed that meant he’d quit. He’d have to call, just to make sure the boy was okay, but decided to wait a day. Or maybe two. Meanwhile, Kylo remained charming and Armitage remained charmed. They settled into a routine where Kylo would spend the day searching for vintage records that his customers were having trouble tracking down while Armitage ran the shop. Phasma agreed to cover Mitaka’s hours on condition that she could finish earlier to get a break before her second job as a nightclub bouncer, and Armitage agreed since Kylo would be there in the evenings to help him close up.  
So it was a surprise to Armitage when Mitaka walked in early on Sunday afternoon carrying two coffee cups and his laptop.

“You got a minute?” Mitaka said. “In the office?”  
“Do you still work here?” asked Armitage.   
Mitaka shook his head. “No. I just want you to look at something.”  
“Show me here.” Armitage patted the counter. Mitaka shrugged and opened his laptop.   
“Okay. First, Kylo Ren followed me on Friday after our little discussion on the pavement. He’s violent and you can’t trust him. Second,” Mitaka opened a file of photographs. “He’s not Kylo Ren. He’s Ben Solo. Ben Organa-Solo. Of—“  
“They own New Republic! Shit, Doph, that’s a whole fucking record label. Did you follow him around?”  
Mitaka shrugged. “Yes.”  
“He must have his reasons for not telling me.” Armitage stared at the face of Kylo Ren smiling out of the family photograph on the screen. “Why the fuck would you do that? Look—“  
“Stop.” Mitaka pulled his collar aside and Armitage’s eyes widened at the purple mottling fading to yellow at the edges. “He did this. He made his reasons for chasing me and getting me in a headlock and half strangling me quite clear, so if it’s all right with you I won’t be here when he gets back. He said I wasn’t even to call or text to say I quit.” He handed Armitage a flash drive. “There’s more on there if you want to know.”  
Mitaka picked up one of the coffee cups and left the shop. Armitage frowned at the space where the laptop had been, then picked up the flash drive and dropped it into the wastepaper basket. Five minutes later, he retrieved the flash drive and pocketed it.

Kylo arrived back late afternoon with a box of vinyl and a grin. The shop was quiet since it was Phasma’s day off and they closed at six. Kylo called over to Armitage, who was staring at his screen. “Want to close early and help me bag and tag these?”   
“Kylo? Before that, can I ask you something?” Armitage sucked his bottom lip and took a deep breath through his nose.   
“Sure, honey, what’s up?”  
The shop seemed unnaturally quiet. The constant hum of the electricals and the roar and growl of traffic seemed to silence themselves to wait for Armitage to form words.  
“Why did you tell me your name is Kylo Ren when you’re actually Ben Organa-Solo?”  
Kylo set down his box and turned. “How did you... That has not been my name for over a year. I am Kylo Ren.”  
Armitage glared. “Did you not think it important for me to know that your family owns the recording company that has been blocking every attempt I make at expanding my store?”  
Somehow the sounds came rushing back and Armitage’s head spun. He gripped the edge of the counter. “Are you here as a spy or a mole to bankrupt my business, and did you assault Dopheld?”  
“Dopheld?”  
“Dopheld MITAKA!” Armitage gritted his teeth. He forced himself to keep looking at the man who called himself Kylo Ren.  
“Ah shit,”said Kylo with a sigh. “I went after him to say you were mine and I didn’t want him bothering you like that. He accused me of all sorts of ridiculous things and I lost my temper. He came to see you, didn’t he? Well. What lies did he tell you?”  
Armitage looked away and shook his head. He rummaged in his pocket and handed Kylo a set of keys. “You know how to close up. Your stuff needs to be gone by noon tomorrow.”

Armitage left and called Phasma from the street. Just under an hour later he sat opposite his friend in a cocktail bar, looking at a drink that he’d probably laugh at usually. Instead he pulled out the paper umbrella, knocked it back and reached for its partner.   
“Whoa!” Phasma’s eyes opened wider. “I know it’s two-for-one night mate, but take it easy! You’re not coming back to mine of you’re going to puke.”  
Armitage made a face and set his second drink down. “Sorry,” he said. “Best behaviour.”  
“And?”  
“And no whingeing about splitting up with my boyfriend.”  
“Good,” said Phasma. “Now. Should I call Doph for you? See if he’s the forgiving type?”  
“Oh jeez no,” Armitage shook his head. “I mean, he’s _nice_ but...”  
“Not tall enough for you? Not muscular enough? Too handsome? Too much work ethic?”  
“Shut up. You know what I mean.”  
Phasma grinned. “Okay. No matchmaking to get you a rebound shag.”  
“Promise?”  
“Promise. I wouldn’t put Doph through that.”

Armitage got back to his flat sometime in the afternoon after checking on the shop, seeing that the ‘Vintage Vinyl’ display was gone, and putting a sign in the window to say _Sorry, closed Monday due to unforeseen circumstances. Open as usual tomorrow._ Kylo’s clothes were gone, and his shelf in the bathroom cabinet was empty and wiped clean. Even his preferred brand of beer was missing from the fridge. Millicent was unimpressed until Armitage cleaned his bowl and fed him.  
“Good boy. Just you and me again, eh, Millie?”  
Millicent purred into his tuna. Armitage wandered into the living room and opened the curtains. When he turned back, the first thing he noticed was a folded note on top of the radiogram. He turned on the ancient machine and it hissed to life, the turntable spinning and the stylus automatically finding its place in the groove of the LP already on the turntable. Armitage picked up the note and fought the urge to crumple it and throw it in the recycling.

 _Just don't know what to do with myself_  
Dear Armitage,  
 _I don't know what to do with myself_  
I know you probably hate me a bit and don’t want to hear this right now but I’m not what you called me  
 _Planning everything for two_  
and I only meant to help you out. Yes, I used to be Ben Solo, but not any more. I don’t  
 _Doing everything with you_  
agree with my parents’ way of rationing music and restricting artists, and I’ve  
 _And now that were through_  
been estranged from them for more than a year. I don’t work for Republic. I can’t. I never will.  
 _I just don't know what to do_  
If you’re willing to let me tell my side of the story please text or something.  
 _I just don't know what to do with myself_  
I want to make it up to Dopheld too. 

Armitage looked over the note again, both sides, but that was all it said. No signature, no name. Not that it was important, because Armitage absolutely, definitely was not going to respond.


	6. Welcome home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for violence, knife crime and the aftermath of an implicit threat to Armitage’s life.

“Hi Dopheld?”  
_”Why are you calling me?”_  
“Um. I fired Kylo. Yesterday. Will you come back to work tomorrow?”  
_”No.”_  
“I really want to put this all behind us and—“  
“Mitaka?” The line was silent. “Shit.”

“Hi Phas, want to hang out again later?”  
_”I have work.”_  
“No you don’t, I closed the shop today.”  
_”Armitage, I have two jobs on top of part-time college. About work...”_  
Armitage groaned. “Go on.”  
_”I got that job as a sports therapist at Every Body. I start on Monday next week so I need to quit unless you can pay me more than they offered. Which you can’t. Consider this my week’s notice and I’m taking it as holiday owed.”_  
“Fine,” said Armitage through gritted teeth. “Well done. Congratulations. Fucking wonderful.”

Armitage ended the call, muttering _traitors!_ He clutched his phone tight in his hand and considered throwing it against the wall. But then, he reasoned, he’d have a broken phone as well as no employees. Millicent walked over and leaned against his shin.  
“Well, boy, it’s going to be just me like it was in the beginning. I’ll find another starving student who’ll be grateful for a pittance to watch the till in the afternoons, and I can get another bouncer. I did this all by myself before and I can do it again for a few days. You want to come with me? Be a cute boy for the customers?”  
He picked up Millie, who purred and rubbed against his face. Armitage smiled.  
“Maybe not. You smell weird. You hungry?”

On Tuesday, Armitage opened his store, dealt with the mail and email, and fielded questions like: _You gave your assistant the day off?_ and _Hey, does Kylo Ren work here? Only I heard..._

On Wednesday, someone came in asking about the tall blonde security guard.  
“No, she got a new job. Fitness instructor at Every Body.” Armitage tried a smile for size. “You looking for anything in particular?”  
The customer shrugged and left.

On Thursday the shop was empty because it was raining heavily. Just before closing, the customer who’d asked about Phasma returned, hood pulled up against the weather. This time he wasn’t alone: one man waited on the pavement outside and another stood blocking the door. The man who’d been curious about Phasma sauntered up to Armitage, smiling as if he had a question, and punched him in the face. Armitage stumbled back and hit the wall. The man was up close and in his space, expression twisted with aggression. A knife flashed in front of Armitage then cold metal pressed against his neck.  
“OPEN THE TILL!”  
“There’s nothing!”  
“BULLSHIT! GET IT OPEN! NOW!”  
Armitage flinched at the shouting and staggered over to open the till. He watched as his meagre cash takings were emptied into a backpack.  
“PHONE!”  
Armitage stood with his mouth open in terror. He barely felt his pockets being searched. The robber pointed to the office door and yelled in Armitage’s face again.  
“WHAT’S IN THERE?”  
Armitage jerked his head aside and felt the metal nick his skin. “Nothing! Just the t-toilet.”  
Clattering and a quick glance told Armitage that someone was knocking CD cases from the shelves into a holdall. He doubled over as another punch landed in his gut and a knee slammed into his head.

And then the door banged and he was shaking on the floor. The whole encounter had taken about a minute.

_Weak-willed and useless_

Armitage bit back a scream of frustration at the gruff voice in his head and forced himself to open his eyes. The shop was in disarray, but quiet. He pushed himself to his knees, keeping his head down behind the counter, and peered out. There was nobody. Armitage stood up, groaning at the pain in his stomach and his face, and patted his pockets. His phone and wallet were gone. He walked slowly to the door and went out into the street. Next door, Thanisson and another barista were rattling down the shutters of the café.  
“Fucking hell, what happened?”  
The other barista hurried over. Armitage recognised the voice although he couldn’t quite focus. He held out his hand. “Mitaka, please may I use your phone?”

Mitaka dialed. Kylo picked up on the second ring.  
_“Hello?”_  
“Kylo.”  
_”Armitage!”_  
Armitage closed his eyes and imagined the last time he’d heard that voice say his name. It had been the morning of the day he’d told Ben Solo to move out. He fought to keep his voice under control.  
_“Don’t hang up on me, Armitage!”_  
“Sorry. Um.”  
_”Can I meet you?”_  
“Can you come to the shop? Now?”  
_”Are you okay? You sound weird.”_  
“No. Fuck, no.”  
_”I’ll be there as soon as I can.”_

Armitage handed the phone back to Mitaka, who pocketed it and stared at Armitage’s face. “What happened?”  
“Got robbed.”  
“Shit!” Mitaka took his phone out again while Thanisson looked through the door of the record store and made a face. Thanisson came back and opened the door shutter of the café, then scurried inside to deactivate the alarm. Mitaka’s call was short. He took Armitage by the arm and steered him into the café. “Police say they’ll send someone when they can and not to touch anything, and remember to cancel your phone and all your cards.”

Kylo arrived before the police did. He wrapped Armitage in a careful hug.  
“I borrowed Rey’s car. I can take you to hospital if you want.”  
“No.” Armitage was shaking again and Kylo held him tighter. Armitage closed his eyes. “Just... all those times you hear of people being robbed and you think _I’m different, I’d fight back!_ and... I froze. I don’t even remember the half of what happened.”  
“Yeah, that’s normal, mate.” A severe-looking, dark-suited woman slid into the chair opposite. “Don’t feel bad about that. You’re Armitage Hux?” Armitage nodded. “I’m Inspector Unamo.” She opened a folder, pulled out a form and tested her pen on a paper napkin before handing the paperwork over to a young uniformed officer. “Want to tell my constable what you can remember? I’m going to have a look next door. Oh!” Inspector Unamo turned to smile at Thanisson. “I don’t suppose you could fire up the cappuccino machine for me, could you, sweetheart?”

It was very late by the time Kylo escorted Armitage home. Kylo followed Armitage up to his flat and paused at the entrance, then walked in and closed the door when Armitage didn’t turn to say goodnight. Millicent gave him a baleful glare.  
“You get in the shower,” said Kylo. “I’ll feed your cat.”  
“You don’t have to,” said Armitage. “Um. Thanks.”  
When Armitage came out of the bathroom, there was tea and food on a tray and a record on the radiogram. Kylo smiled and held out his hand. Armitage sighed.  
“I’m not leaving you alone, so don’t bother kicking me out. You’re going to A&E tomorrow morning because your nose is ruined and you might have broken ribs or something. And you might need help with... stuff. I dunno. Inventory of what’s stolen, that kind of thing.”  
“I appreciate it,” said Armitage. “Especially after...”  
“Doesn’t matter right now.”  
Armitage sat carefully on the sofa. Kylo placed the tray across their laps and they both ate and drank and listened to the song.

 _We acted like children_  
_Now, don't tell me that you're sorry_

Kylo put his arm around Armitage’s shoulders, and Armitage leaned in a little. “Y’know,” said Kylo, “I really am not working for anyone else against you.”

 _Darling, I'm as much to blame as anyone_  
_It's over and done_

“I know,” said Armitage quietly. “I overreacted.”

_Baby, I'm so glad to have you home_

Armitage’s voice was barely audible. “Today—yesterday I suppose—feels like the last straw.”

 _Welcome home, my baby_  
_Welcome home, my baby_

“I mean,” Armitage continued as he slurped his cooling tea, “I threw you out without letting you defend yourself. Mitaka quit. Phasma quit. Then this.”

 _And this time we'll make it_  
_We'll give a love as well as take it_

He sighed. “Maybe I should quit too.”  
“Well,” said Kylo with a slight shrug, “I was going to say that you should come into business with me. I want to organise a festival for local talent but it’s too big to do on my own.”

_We'll let pride be something we have in our love_

“Right now the last thing I want is to set foot in that shop again.” Armitage shook his head and his voice thickened. “I’ll have to close it for ages until the insurance company has been round and I won’t get much back and I’ll probably go under—“  
“Hey.” Kylo set the tray on the floor and put both arms around Armitage.

_Not just in ourselves_

“Will you stay?” Armitage closed his eyes and felt a warm trickle down his face.  
“Of course.” Kylo wiped Armitage’s cheek with his thumb and kissed the side of his head.  
“I’m not sleeping in a fucking tent.”  
Kylo laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

_Baby, it's so good to have you home_


End file.
